


The Harm in Charm

by kazshero



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Curses, Dean Winchester Has Self-Worth Issues, M/M, Quarantine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:41:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24852496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kazshero/pseuds/kazshero
Summary: When a little charm has a big impact.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 77
Collections: ProfoundBond Exchange: Quarantine & Chill





	The Harm in Charm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [usarechan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/usarechan/gifts).



> This is a Profound Bond Gift for Usarechan! I really hope you like it. I've tried to incorporate your three prompts in this canon fic; Pining, Sam POV, pretend relationship is some form.

Some of Sam’s favorite days were when they all took a trip together to the farmer’s market. It meant a break between cases, some fresh supplies for the bunker and a rare chance to feel somewhat normal.

Considering it was a beautiful day, the market was as busy as expected. People were bustling about, filling their bags with groceries and treats, filling the air with joyful greetings and sprinklings of laughter. There was a sense of community and purpose that Sam felt soaking into his skin along with the sun’s rays.

While Cas and Jack ramble off towards the flower stall to replenish their stock of useful herbs, Sam and Dean go on the hunt for food. Both brothers seem to have differing views on the what counts as sustenance though.

Keeping your body clean, fit and healthy was important, Sam felt, especially in their line of work. He was conscious of what toxins he was putting into his body, and chose organic when he could. Dean’s less wholesome choices were more difficult to understand.

Sam spears himself toward the fresh vegetables and the now familiar face of Bob, the gentleman currently carrying crates of tomatoes from his nearby truck to beneath the small canopy. He makes small talk cheerfully as sorts through the capsicums, selecting several and putting them into a small basket, before moving on to the other produce. Choosing what he needs, he pays in cash. Once he’s done, he pauses a moment under the shade and glances around, his eyes taking in everything. 

As expected, Dean was a couple of stalls away chatting to a lady selling pies. Catching his eye, Dean finishes his own purchase and puts the pie into one of the eco bags Sam had brought for them. The older lady’s cheek pink at whatever Dean says and she waves him away smiling, patting her apron down smoothly and turning to her next customer. 

The brothers weave through the crowd together unhurriedly, stopping occasionally when something catches their interest. Dean begins teasing him about kale or something at one fruit stall. Sam hands a half dozen peaches over to the man behind the table and asks for a pound of cashews, tuning his brother out.

Some pitched tones cut through the peaceful atmosphere of the market and naturally Dean moves away from Sam and gravitates towards the commotion. Sam finishes his transaction to find Dean confronting a broad shouldered man next to a jewelry stall. An irate blonde is kneeling in front of the counter picking several jewelry pieces up from the ground and packing them away carefully. 

The guy pushes past Dean and storms off, causing Dean to drop his bag. Dean ignores the bag and bends to help the young woman and Sam crosses the walkway to lend what help he can, though there is not much left to do, and in minutes the cases are all packed up. 

Dean picks up his bag with his pie, but Sam can tell by the misshapen lump that it’s ruined and judging by Dean’s distraught expression and sigh, he’s come to the same realization.   
“Son of a bitch! I was looking forward to that pie.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. My ex is an asshole who thinks he has a say in when and where I go.” She re-opens one of her smaller cases and hands Dean a wooden, slightly carved ring. “Here, in thanks.”

“It’s not needed, really. May gave me the pie half price anyway,” Dean admits, trying to refuse the gift. “I’ll go back and see if she has any more.” 

“No take it. It’s nothing expensive, don’t worry. My aunt just makes them as good luck charms.” Her smile is warm and she steps back, hoisting her cases and filling her hands before Dean can try to return it. “Seriously, thank you.”

“So, free pie and a free ring?” Sam raises his eyebrow, as the two watch her walk through the crowd, before the continue on their own way, back the way they came. Back to the pie stall, Sam assumes.

“What can I say, everyone loves me.” Dean smirks, putting on the ring. It’s a relatively plain piece considering the other items Sam had briefly seen, but it is well made and seems to fit well. 

“Jerk.” Sam scoffs, rolling his eyes. 

“Bitch.”

***

There are more people this time and as they cut their way through the throngs, Sam gradually becomes aware of the many appraising eyes thrown in their direction. They must have seen Dean stand up to that dick, he surmises.

“Oh you’re back! Couldn’t stay away, could you?” the pie-lady cooes, coming around the display. 

A young woman steps abruptly in Sam’s path to get closer to his brother before May reaches him. 

“Hi, I’m Amber. What’s your name, handsome?” Amber asks twining her hair around her index finger, and looking up at Dean through her long lashes.

Dean looks slightly befuddled as he glances between the two women, his gaze drawn away from the pies. “Uh-“

“Back off. I saw him first.” Sam is taken aback by the fierceness in May’s voice. Dean’s expression says similarly as Sam reaches his side. 

"Um, sorry ladies, I'm taken." Both women turn to look at Sam with mistrust and Sam is relieved when Cas and Jack show up. "This is my boyfriend." Dean gestures as Cas who blinks and turns to the women with a smile.

"Are you ready to go?" Cas asks politely and Sam and Dean agree readily. They wave at the women and turn toward the exit.

Their pace picks up as they walk back to the car and Sam swears he can feel everyone’s eyes on them. The previous bustle of activity is replaced with an almost eerie silence. Sure enough, when they reach the impala and Sam turns around, he can see numerous heads turned their way. It’s very disconcerting.

They were handsome men, he knew this objectively. They had used their looks to their advantage on several cases. Sam tended to be more empathic and worked well with victims encouraging them to describe whatever unbelievable event had occurred, Dean tended to flirt and charm the information out of witnesses, and Cas… Well Cas had his own direct manner that cuts right to the heart of matters.

"Did you buy a new ring?" Cas queries, breaking the charged moment, and something clicks into place for Sam.

Dean and Sam look at the ring and then each other. Sam watches as Dean tries to remove it. There are grunts and huffs, but the ring won't come off.

"Could it be a curse? A spell?” Sam speculates. Cas takes in the situation as Sam continues. “Get out of here, I'll go back to the stall, and see if I can find out any information from the other vendors."

“I’ll go with you.” Cas assures Dean, to Sam’s relief. Jack is already in the back seat. Less people to worry about. Hopefully, with Dean out of sight there won't be any issues.

***

Sam returns to the bunker some hours later, with good news and bad news. He knows more information about Leigh, the jeweler, but the reason her ex was by earlier was that he’d heard she was moving out of town today. One stall holder said she knew her friend in the library in Franklin. So that’s somewhere to start the inquires.

“Did you have any luck getting the ring off?” Sam asks unnecessarily, seeing on the red, swollen digit that the ring is still there.

“No and I’ve tried everything I can think of.” Dean pouts. He turns to Cas. “If I cut my finger off, can you heal it back?” 

Cas gives Dean a look that sentence deserves.

This is going to be tricky. Sam loves his brother. That isn’t even in question. They’d been through it all together and honestly now had one of the best relationships. They balanced each other’s strengths and weaknesses. But there were some things he didn’t want to test, like the strength of this curse. He tells Jack to go pack a bag, they’ll hunt down the jeweler and see what can be done.

“Dean, you’re staying here. We don't know how strong this spell is so I'll take Jack with me. It's probably best if we stay out of your hair until we get a cure.”

“What about Cas? Why can't I come? I won't be any use here and I've a thing or two to say to this Leigh after I helped her today."

"Cas is an angel, he should be immune." Sam looks at Cas who nods in reply. "And honestly I just don't think it's safe for you in public. Safe for you, for me or Cas, for everyone."

Dean didn't argue but headed toward the kitchen, to do what he often did in times of stress. Cook.

***

Dean drums his hands on the table, causing Cas to look up from where he’s hunched over a rather large tome. His blue eyes are filled with curiosity and concern as he tilts his head and waits to see if Dean had anything to say. Dean freezes as he is hit anew by how soft and human the angel looks without his coat. When Dean says nothing, Cas returns his focus to his task.

It has been the slowest, yet probably most affecting, strip tease Dean has ever witnessed. It was day two when the tie came off. It’s probably in the room Cas has designated for himself. The trench coat was removed the next day. Seeing it on the peg in the bunker’s kitchen every morning still causes a double take. His heart beating faster before his first cup of coffee kicks in.

Two days ago the suit jacket was draped on the back of one of the kitchen chairs as Cas watched Dean prepare lunch. Dean must have looked like an idiot standing there frozen, spatula in one hand, while Cas peeled off the dark blue material right in front of him. And since Cas doesn’t need to eat, Dean doesn’t think his offer of eggs was the best cover he could have made.

Today, it’s the shoes. Dean was currently being driven crazy by stockinged toes that meant Cas wasn’t running off anywhere. His mouth feels suddenly dry. Somewhere under the desk, if he stretches out his own shoe-less feet, he might brush against Cas’. It was an exciting, terrifying feeling. Dean wishes Sam were here to stop him doing something stupid.

Antsy for something to do, he stands up, drawing Cas’ attention again. “Getting a beer, you want one?” Cas shakes his head and returns his gaze to the book. 

Dean’s a roll with the punches kinda guy but there’s no punches he can throw here. Dean's used to having an enemy right in front of him but right now the only enemy is himself.

Since the Sam called the night before and said the ring was literally a good luck charm, meant to gift a small boon or wish. Leigh was a little upset that her gesture was causing such upheaval and very contrite. She was going to work with Sam to see if they could find a way to reverse it. Though she did recommend staying, for lack of a better word, quarantined. Dean slams the fridge door shut, scowling at his hand.

Coming back with two beers he hovers at Cas’ side. “Any luck?” Dean takes the opportunity to put one hand on the broad shoulder and lean over to look at the strange symbols in the book. Under the single layer, he can feel the heat of Cas’ skin. Heat rises up his neck and he coughs and turns away to attempt to smother the blush as he returns to his own seat. 

Cas accepts the beer with a soft thank you. “Nothing so far. Love spells can be very tricky, Dean. And we don’t even know if this can be classed as such.“

Dean curses his big mouth, why couldn’t he have wished for free pie for life or something useful like that!

“I’ve come across a repulsion spell that we could possibly cast as a counter-measure. I don’t know if it’ll be effective, and there’s also various implications if it is effective. It may be possible to tailor the quantities of the ingredients to our needs?” Cas didn’t sound too confident.

Dean seriously considers it. But what if that spell actually worked on Cas. On Sam. 

Not only that but how could he be a good hunter if people were repulsed by him. It’s not that he likes or even invites the attention, not often, but it’s useful for the job and well sometimes it’s fun to rub Sam’s face in it. This though, this goes beyond tipping the wink playing bait, or flashing a smile and turning on the charm to get a witness to open up. Dean shakes his head and they settle down to more research.

Although they're busy researching now it was almost like a vacation Dean told himself. No ghosts, no vampires. Though all his dreams of vacations involved sun, sea and a lot less clothes. Which draws his eyes up once again to Cas.

He finds himself wishing the ring would work on Cas, despite his angel powers. Almost immediately, he feels sick at himself. He’s glad he still has his best friend. He just wishes he deserved him.   


***

If humanity was a dance, Castiel thinks he might have two left feet. He tries but he fumbles the steps as often as not. There are time he takes his cue from Dean or Sam, though he’s aware he doesn’t always get it right even then. 

For instance, he had noticed that since they were not leaving the bunker Dean had switched to just wearing what were known as henleys, jeans and socks, so Castiel had removed his outer garments also. But from Dean’s frequent looks, Castiel feels he’s doing something incorrect. Castiel has never before paid so much attention to attire, but Dean has now been in what he calls his “Dead Guy Robe” for three straight days. He knows this means there is some deeper issue. In this case, the tune is familiar and intimate to him. Dean is blaming himself. 

Castiel would normally suggest a drive in the impala. The gentle hum of the engine beneath the soft tunes playing from the cassette deck are soothing to both Dean and Castiel. Unfortunately, until they can fix this problem they can’t risk Dean leaving the bunker. And Castiel is not any closer to a solution, it is frustrating and disheartening.

In the time before Castiel knew the Winchesters, he knows he was patient. After all, there was a time for everything and everything had its time. There was no need to rush when you had all of infinity at your fingertips. Now though, Castiel counts his time in minutes and hours, days and weeks. In recent years, Castiel has found himself more prone to bouts of impatience. Still he waits. He waits and he wants.

Dean makes him feel more human. Dean makes him feel, which he loves and hates in equal measure. It's so confusing. He just doesn't appear to be as adaptable and resourceful as Dean. But he can wait.

Eventually Castiel's patience, pays off and Dean's words come out. Dean wants love, wants to be loved, is that so wrong. He looks so lost, a feeling Castiel is intimate with. But whenever Castiel is lost, he uses Dean as his North Star, and it’s his turn to try offer the same to his friend.

“Dean, you are loved. Sam loves you, Jack loves you. Dean, I love you. I know that might not mean that much to you and that you hope for . You're the best man I know. You inspire me daily.”

“I need to know this is not the ring talking.” Dean clenches his fists and lets out a shaky breath. 

“It's not. If you could only see yourself as I do, you’d know why everybody should love you,” Castiel’s hand frames Dean’s face, lifting his gaze. “Curse or not.”

Castiel covers Dean’s hands with his own, rubbing his thumb lightly over the knuckles. Sincerely hoping that this is not another of those missteps Castiel brushes his lips lightly against Dean's. The slight scruff an unusual sensation but his lips soft. He takes Dean’s hands in his and unclenches the fists, meaning to lace their fingers together.

The ring falls off. They both look at the floor and each other. An soft uncontrollable giggle escapes Dean’s lip, which turns into a timid gulp as green eyes turn to meet his.

“Still love me?” Dean asks uncertainly. 

“Of course Dean. I told you –“ Dean’s lips crush back against Castiel’s, muffling the rest of the sentence. This kiss is nothing like the first.


End file.
